


Maybe you'll wake up in a world of charm

by Eikaron



Category: RWBY
Genre: Bisexual Qrow Branwen, Fluffy bits, Gay Clover, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical Accuracy Level: Wikipedia, Much Comfort, Sometimes things go only a little bit wrong, canon divergent after V7E10, chapter 12? never heard of it I don't know what you mean, everything is fine, flirty Clover, hurt-but-recovering Clover, i guess?, tbh this is pure self-indulgence but whatever, the flimsiest of flimsy excuses for bed sharing, tired Qrow, very little hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eikaron/pseuds/Eikaron
Summary: Clover gets hurt during the battle against Tyrian, but he is going to be alright. Maybe the worst doesn't always happen, even with Qrow around.Canon divergent after V7CH10.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 146





	Maybe you'll wake up in a world of charm

**Author's Note:**

> There are a quite a number of "Clover gets seriously hurt by Tyrian and Qrow blames himself" fics around by now, which is totally valid but I felt it would be nice to have something a little bit more uplifting. Maybe Clover gets hurt and it is NOT life-threatening for a change & Qrow can have some hope that things don't always go the worst possible way. To be honest this would probably need some more editing, but I wanted to get it out before we actually see the fight so there you go ^^°
> 
> (ETA after the absolute dumpster fire that was episode 12: Well I feel like a total clown now. I refuse to accept this happened. Volume 7 only had 11 episodes.)

_A high whistling sound in his left ear, volume going up and down._

“-over? Clover? Clover, can you hear me?”

_He suddenly realises his eyes are open, blinking. His field of vision is small, black around the edges, but there is a face in front of him; strangely oval looking. It takes him a moment to understand it's because he's lying on his back on the ground and the other person is hovering over him. He notices the cold seeping through his clothes all of a sudden. Something hard and pointy is digging into his back._

_The face is a man with black hair and crimson eyes. He looks distressed, scared. His lips are moving. Sounds are coming out but he doesn't understand their meaning. The man's face turns to the side._

“He's not responding. I'm not even sure he's recognizing me right now, his eyes are all glazed over.”

 _A disembodied voice answers:_ “Keep trying. I've radioed for backup. Scroll says his aura's low, but it's not broken and we've stopped the bleeding. He's going to be fine.”

_That's Elm, his mind sluggishly supplies. He feels like he is in a bowl of water. Everything is out of focus except the stranger’s face right in front of him. He realises the man is holding his shoulder, gently shaking it._

“Clover? Clover, can you understand me? You were hurt.”

_Why does he keep saying that word... Oh. That's him, he realises belatedly. Clover. That's his name. The man is saying Clover's name, why is he saying his name? Over and over again. He sounds worried._

_Clover blinks again. Duh. Because Clover is on the floor and not responding. Not responding to Qrow. Because that's Qrow who is talking to him, Clover's new partner, a fellow Huntsman. Clover really likes him. The puzzle pieces are slowly slotting back into place, jumbled and out of order, like upending a box of toy bricks. Something must have happened and Qrow is trying to talk to him, but Clover isn't reacting and that's why he is so worried._

_Black buildings suddenly come into view behind Qrow, blurry dark shapes resolving into a street, debris. They have obviously always been there, Clover's eyes just didn't see them. How odd. He shivers in the cold wind. It occurs to Clover that he should say something, let Qrow know he's okay. Qrow's lips have stopped moving, he's frowning at Clover._

“Wait, I think he's coming back into focus. Cloves?”

_Clover feebly reaches for Qrow's arm, trying to give it a reassuring pat. He briefly gets distracted by the lines of green light wavering over his skin._

“ _Qrow”, he says. “I'm okay. Okay.”_

_His vision is starting to go black around the edges again. What even happened, he wonders? He doesn't remember, but his side hurts. Clover sluggishly turns his head to look down at his stomach. It feels wet. The white fabric is soaked in deep, dark red. Ah, that's why. Tyrian. Of course._

_How embarrassing, he thinks, before the blackness closes in on him again. Fainting in front of your crush._

~*~

Clover blinks owlishly at Qrow, his glassy eyes clearing, focusing on Qrow. He lifts his hand and paws at Qrow's arm, wavering and missing it twice, but Qrow takes it as a good sign nevertheless.

“Qrgl”, Clover slurs. “Mkay. Okay.”

Qrow lets out a relieved sigh.

“Gave me real scare there for a moment, Cloves”, he says, smiling at Clover, who grins back dopily before he passes right out again, his head lolling to the side.

For a split second terror catches hold of Qrow again, but when he sees the green aura lines rippling over Clover's body the arctic fist clawed around his heart loosens its grip. Clover's aura is still active, the gash in his side has long stopped bleeding. He is going to be okay.

“Transport's here”, says Elm, just as Qrow hears the telltale roaring of the engines.

He slips one arm under Clover's knees and the other under his shoulders and gently lifts the other man up, carrying him bridal-style.

Elm grins at him as they climb into the airship to bring them back to Atlas.

“You know”, she says in her big, booming voice, “I always figured Clover would end up carrying you around like that. And not into a _hospital_ bed.”

“Shut up”, he grumbles without much venom as he carefully deposits Clover on the airship's floor, pretending not to notice the slight tremor in her voice.

Maybe it wasn't the closest call he's ever had, but that doesn't make it easy. Qrow arranges himself next to him, enlisting Elm to help lift Clover's head into his lap for comfort. He is grateful when she doesn't comment on him gently brushing tousled hair out of Clover's face, though she does not hide her smile.

~*~

The medic taking care of Clover is copper-skinned, stick-thin, with cornrows and quick, deft hands and appears to have been called here directly from their bed; speaking only in clipped sentences as they dash around the room. Qrow can't blame them. Sparing a glance for the crowded waiting room he is glad not to be a doctor. With the massive influx of evacuees from Mantle, many of which are injured, it's all hands on deck. Nevertheless, Doctor Eki expertly patches up the already-healing slash across Clover's stomach and side with military efficiency, broadcasting a calm sense of alertness that feels reassuring to Qrow. Like everything is going to be alright.

He leans against the wall next to the bed as he watches them run diagnostics on the semi-conscious Clover, playing nervously with the man's shamrock pin in his hand. It has fallen off the lapel. Probably his fault. The vest is hanging loosely around Clover's broad frame, grey t-shirt scissored open to access the cut in his body. It's covered by a compress; still pristinely white in supreme defiance of all the dried blood surrounding it. Despite the pain killers Clover gives a little hiss as Dr. Eki stitches up the wound, brows drawing together. Qrow forces himself to take a deep breath, remembering all too well the way his own abdomen hurt after Tyrian. But Tyrian is no threat anymore and Clover hasn't been poisoned.

“Alright”, Dr. Eki interrupts his train of thoughts, punching brothers-know-what into their tablet scroll. “let me give you the run-down. First things first: You're going to be fine.”

Qrow slowly lets out the breath he has been holding. It doesn't come as a surprise at this point, but the relief washes over him regardless, taking with it the last remnants of tension in his body.

“Great”, mumbles Clover and Qrow can't help but smile. “When do I start feeling like it?”

Clover's eyes flutter shut as he inhales and exhales shakily. The hand resting on the bedspread flops around weakly. Qrow fights the urge to take it in his as Clover is fighting to stay awake.

“Next week”, Dr. Eki tells him drily. “Now. Injuries. The wound on your stomach, obviously. Clean cut, will be fine”, they go on, “lost quite a bit of blood – that's why you fainted – but nothing life-threatening. Mild concussion. I gave you an electrolytic infusion and iron. Painkillers too. No stored blood though, you'll have to replace that on your own. ”

“What-”, Qrow erupts, but the doctor holds up a hand to cut him off.

“Look outside”, they say sharply. “What do you see?”

Qrow doesn't have to. He sighs, his shoulders sagging and absently slips the four-leaf-clover into his trouser pocket.

“Lots of injured people. Yeah, I get it, you people need every single drop for civilians not trained in aura healing.”

“Precisely. Mr. Ebi is already well on his way to recovery. To be honest, other than giving him a blood unit or two to speed up the healing process there isn't much I can do. All he needs is rest.”

“Can I give him some of my blood if the type checks out?”, Qrow asks.

Clover makes a feeble attempt at protesting, but Qrow shushes him.

“Shut up, it's fine”, he tells him and Clover lets himself sink back into the pillow with a resigned sigh, pale and clearly too exhausted to fight.

Dr. Eki looks Qrow up and down, scrutinizing his haggard and beaten appearance and replies bluntly: “Frankly, you don't look like you can afford it.” Qrow scowls at them. “Fine, I'll check. You're his partner I presume?”

“I, uh, yeah, I guess you could say that”, he says with an awkward glance at Clover's steadily breathing form. Without even opening his eyes the bastard lets out a barely audible amused snort. Dr. Eki gives them both a shrewd look, but doesn't question Qrow further; pulling up both their medical records side by side instead.

They type into the search bar, then almost immediately shake their head.

“Sorry”, they tell him. “Opposite types. No can do.”

Qrow suppresses a groan. Somehow this doesn't surprise him.

“There's one more thing.” Dr. Eki is giving him a sharp and somewhat guarded look that he can't quite parse, before turning to Clover. “Mr. Ebi – are you still with us?”

Clover drags his eyes open.

“Barely”, he drawls. “But yes.”

“Good.” Dr. Eki nods to themself and swipes something on their scroll tablet Qrow can't see. “It's standard procedure for any patient with even a mild concussion to stay under surveillance for twenty-four hours. I don't consider this necessary for a trained Huntsman with aura healing as well underway as yours and no other risk factors, however it's the official protocol and I'm not allowed to discharge you nor are you allowed to discharge yourself in your condition. This means unless someone with high enough clearance signs you out you're going to be here all night.”

They raise their eyebrows, still giving them this significant look. Qrow frowns, confused for a moment until comprehension dawns.

“You're going to need every single bed in the hospital tonight”, he states flatly.

“Yes”, says Dr. Eki simply. Qrow sighs.

“Oh”, says Clover quietly as he, too, understands.

They share a silent glance, but Qrow already knows Clover's answer anyway. He crosses his arms.

“You sure he's going to be okay?”, he asks, jerking his head towards Clover. He is going for a scowl but his face ends up looking concerned more than anything else.

Risk factors. Hah. Qrow is a risk factor all by himself.

In lieu of a reply Dr. Eki pulls up Clover's stats on the screen above his bed. Clover tilts his head, but almost immediately realises he can't see a thing and looks at Qrow instead, who is regarding the data screen carefully.

Clover's aura bar has moved from deep red to a tentative yellow with an arrow next to it pointing upwards, indicating that it is going back up. When neither of them responds Dr. Eki gives a little eye roll and starts to explain the individual points: “Wound's already scabbed over, blood is being replaced at a rate of approximately 110ml per hour, heart rate is normal, as are the brain waves. Your aura has already healed the concussion and is going up at 14% per hour with the recharge rate expected to increase steadily over the next few hours. Risk factors are things like age, chronic illnesses, any history of strokes or heart conditions in the family, none of which apply to you, Mr. Ebi, a perfectly healthy 34-year-old.”

“Fourteen percent per hour doesn't sound like a lot”, says Qrow, face morphing into a worried frown once more as he looks at Clover again.

“Qrow. I'm going to be fine”, he says patiently, his eyes threatening to droop again.

“Like I said, it will go up in time”, Dr. Eki reminds him. “You will also get this.” They hold up something that looks like a particularly large silver watch, before holding it against Clover's wrist where the band latches on by itself, a blue LED lighting up. “This is a MedTrack. It will monitor your heart rate, aura and brain waves.” They stick two circular grey pads to Clover's temples. “If there is any change that's cause for concern, it will automatically alert us and sound an alarm.”

“There you go”, says Clover, raising his eyebrows at Qrow. “No worries.”

Against his will Qrow is impressed by the high-tech. He takes another look at Clover. The Huntsman admittedly already looks better than he has when they got here an hour ago, when his skin had been as ghastly white as a Grimm's mask. It's still pale but the color is slowly coming back as far as Qrow can tell under the green aura waves. He glances at the screen.

_Aura Recovery Rate: 14%_

The screen gives off a low beep and the line changes.

_Aura Recovery Rate: 16%_

“Mr. Branwen”, says Dr. Eki as calmly as they can. “Your boyfriend will be fine. And I really need this bed.”

Qrow takes a deep breath and audibly exhales, running a hand through his greasy hair. He needs a shower.

“Alright”, he says. “Okay. I'll take him to his rooms. Where do I need to sign?”

They hand him the tablet scroll and he skims the special authorization form – it lists everything Dr. Eki has told him – before holding his own scroll to the contact point.

“Thank you. You as well, Mr. Ebi.”

They hand the tablet to Clover, who nods weakly and swipes his scroll Qrow hands him from the bedside table.

“What now?”, he asks drowsily, the medication making it harder and harder for him to stay awake.

“Guess I'll carry you to your room”, sighs Qrow.

“Do you need one of the Knights to help?”, Dr. Eki asks him.

“I'll manage”, Qrow replies gruffly. He's been up for hours fighting Grimm and then Tyrian and then Grimm again and he's tired, tired, tired, but when has that ever stopped him?

He helps Clover sit up on the edge of the bed. “Think you can hold onto me for a while if I carry you on my back? Not sure I'm fit enough for bridal-style all the way to your place.”

“Sure. Although I would so love to be your blushing bride”, mumbles Clover as he wraps his arms around Qrow's neck, resting his head against Qrow's cheek; the smugness in his voice offset by the fact that he can barely keep his eyes open at this point.

Qrow chuckles and slips his hands under Clover's thighs, hoisting him easily onto his back, careful not to put any pressure on the wound. It helps that Clover can practically sit on Harbinger. He hopes the other man's luck will let him stay awake long enough to hold on until they're in his room.

“If you can, have him drink some water before going to bed and when he wakes up. I expect you back for a check-up as soon as he's up or twelve hours from now on at the latest”, Dr. Eki explains as they escort Qrow and Clover out. Qrow smiles gratefully when they pick up Kingfisher leaning in the corner and attach it to the magnetic hook on Clover's uniform without asking. “He might still experience disorientation, nausea or dizziness, that's normal. Got it?”

Qrow gives a crisp nod.

“Lots of water, check up in twelve hours or as soon as he wakes up if that happens first”, he repeats as Dr. Eki holds the door open for him. “Don't worry if he barfs. Got it.” He steps into the corridor full of people, careful not to let Clover bump his head on the doorframe. “See you later.”

Qrow ignores the gasps and concerned looks following him as he carries Clover away, focused solely on getting him to his apartment to rest.

The 'boyfriend' doesn't register until he is already halfway there, Clover nuzzling sleepily into his neck. He flushes.

When Qrow finally deposits Clover on his bed he tells himself he'll only take a little nap. He can't afford to sleep yet, there is still so much to do, he still needs to check on the kids and he shouldn't stay anyway – what if his semblance messes with the MedTrack? – but fuck, he's so tired. And Clover is going to be fine and so is everyone else, none of them have any severe injuries. He can take a little nap. Give in to the loop of relief that is running through his head, the security of knowing that everyone is safe for now, that they all made it through the night in one piece. Just put his head down for couple minutes...

~*~

When Clover wakes up the first thing he registers is the warmth. The second thing he notices is the weight across his chest. That and someone snoring softly into his ear. Bewildered, he tries to blink the sleep away from his eyes to no avail, feeling simultaneously very rested and sore all over. It's an odd feeling. His throat is absolutely parched, too. Where even is he? He rubs his eyes. The weight on his curiously naked chest turns out to be an arm and not his own at that.

Clover turns his mildly throbbing head to the left, having an inkling of who might be snuggling up against him. He can't see the face of the person breathing warmly against his neck, but the shirt's grey floral pattern and the red cape are unmistakable: Qrow.

His heart skips a beat.

Then he frowns. The last thing he remembers is fighting Tyrian Callows and – Clover's eyes widen as he sees the pad on his stomach – _Callows_ _bypassing his aura and slicing Clover's stomach with one of his foldable blades._

Oh.

Well. Presumably someone took him out or he and Qrow likely wouldn't be here, Clover reasons. And if they haven't there is nothing Clover can do about it at the moment, so there is little sense in worrying. He'll find out soon enough.

Clover sneaks another glance at the sleeping man next to him. The pieces are coming together, although he is still mystified as to why he is apparently in Qrow's apartment rather than a hospital bed or even his own lodgings.

Hopefully Qrow will fill him in when he wakes up. Clover gingerly touches a finger to the pad on his stomach, wrinkling his nose at all the crusted blood everywhere and raising his brows in surprise at the MedTrack on his wrist.

He scrunches up his eyes, trying to recall the events of last night, but any clear memory stops at him crashing into a wall in Mantle after being hit by Tyrian and then being on the ground, Qrow's concerned face hovering over him. This is followed by vague, blurry images of being in... an airship? And then, yes, a hospital bed, he thinks. Followed by being carried on Qrow's back. Huh. Clover very, very carefully dislodges the arm Qrow has loosely thrown over his body and sits up slowly, making sure not to make any sudden movements; both because he does not want to disturb Qrow and because he isn't sure yet how bad his wound is. However, all he feels is a light itch that he rather suspects is due to dried blood more than anything else. A moment of dizziness hits him the moment he is upright, but it is gone almost as soon as it has appeared.

Qrow grunts and shuffles closer, the arm Clover has deposited on his legs wrapping around his waist, and buries his nose deep into Clover's side with a content sigh. Clover blushes. He can't imagine he’s smelling too good at this point, with all the blood and sweat, but apparently Qrow doesn't share this opinion.

Looking around Clover sees a glass of water on the bedside table that he gratefully empties. Qrow must have put it there the night before. When pain continues to fail to manifest itself he gingerly pokes at the pad on the side of his stomach and, when he still feels nothing, carefully peeks under it.

For some reason it's this motion that finally startles Qrow awake; grunting and shooting up with a start, looking around wild eyed and disoriented for a few seconds.

“Morning sunshine”, says Clover sweetly.

Qrow blinks at him.

“Clover!”, he exclaims breathlessly.

“That's my name, yes.”

“Well, you weren't so sure last night when you could only garble at me”, counters Qrow, always the smart ass. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“I'm fine”, Clover reassures him. “Qrow – what happened? The last thing I remember is Callows nearly gutting me. Did you-?”

“Don't worry”, Qrow interrupts him roughly, scoffing. “Tyrian's not going to be a problem for us anymore.”

“Is he...?”, asks Clover.

“Yeah. I... I took him out, after you went down. Had to. Robyn helped too. Not sure either of us could have made it alone.”

“And is she alright? What about the others? Your nieces? Are they all...?”

Again, he lets the question hang in the air unspoken. Relief floods him when Qrow breaks into a smile.

“Yeah, they're all fine.”

Clover leans back, exhaling slowly.

“That's good.”

Qrow drags himself upright and leans against the headboard.

“So you don't remember anything after Tyrian got you?”, he asks. “Nothing at all?”

“Not quite, I do remember some things”, Clover concedes. “To be honest, it's mostly a blur, but I think can piece together an approximate story. I remember you carrying me”, he frowns, “and then I think I was in the hospital and you... carried me again?”

“Yeah”, confirms Qrow. “There were too many injured from the Grimm attacks. You were already aura healing so the doctor asked if I could take you to your room instead. I hope that's alright. I mean, you said it was alright, but if you don't remember it-”

He sounds worried again and Clover interrupts him with a hand on his arm.

“It's fine, Qrow”, he tells him, smiling. Qrow's shoulders relax. “Now, that answers most of my questions, but there's still one thing thing I can't quite make heads nor tails of.”

“What?”

Qrow raises his eyebrows questioningly. Clover smirks at him.

“Well, you said you'd take me to my room, yet I somehow seem to have ended up in your bed. Not that I mind.”

Qrow blushes an adorable shade of red.

“Yeah, uh, your scroll battery died. Couldn't open the door to your apartment, so I brought you here. Probably my semblance at work again. Sorry”, he says sheepishly.

Clover playfully nudges his shoulder.

“Oh, I don't know. I'm feeling pretty lucky to wake up like this. Might have been _my_ semblance for all we know.”

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't find a good way to work in an explanation that didn't disrupt the story flow so just in case someone was confused by me writing both "room" and "apartment": My HC is that the Ace Ops (and Qrow) live at the Academy like the students, except that higher ranking officers like them actually have small apartments with a bedroom, living room, bathroom and kitchenette. But since it's all in the same building and there are communal areas - rec rooms and canteens and stuff - it's not really like an apartment building so at the Academy people might colloquially refer to everything as someone's 'room(s)'. I hope that makes sense.


End file.
